


Soft JonMartin

by imalwaysintune



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Confessions, Fluff, Kissing, Love Confessions, Love Letters, M/M, soft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:48:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23532574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imalwaysintune/pseuds/imalwaysintune
Summary: Martin confesses his love in the cutest way basically
Comments: 6
Kudos: 65





	1. Part One

Jonny and Martin sat in Martin's apartment, on the worn leather couch Martin had gotten from his mother. Neither of them said anything, nor were they touching apart from the very tips of their pinky fingers.

Martin had insisted on caring for Jon, bandaging up his wounds and cleaning off the dirt that seemed to cover every inch of him. But Jon had said nothing, simply sitting on the couch and putting his head in his hands. Martin had sat next to him, being careful as to not overwhelm the fragile man sitting on his couch

He waited for Jon to break the silence, and sat there staring at the man he loved instead of using his words. Soon enough Jonny raised his head and looked at Martin, a feeling he had grown familiar with flowing through his chest. He didn't quite know what it was yet, and The Eye didn't seem inclined to let him Know.

He smiled. A weak and weary smile that held the weight of the entire world within it, but a smile nonetheless. Martin followed, smiling softly and moving his hand ever so slightly into Jon's.

For as weak as he looked, Jon was strong. He gripped Martin's hand tight and the feeling that went through his chest before seemed dull compared to what washed over him now.

Finally he broke the silence.

"Martin, I'm.. I'm sorry. For everything. If I had known this would happen-"

"Jon, please," Martin pleaded. "You couldn't have known. None of us knew this was going to happen. None of us knew the Slaughter was going to try and take down the institute again."

"But if I had just paid attention. If I hadn't been so hungry, so... so... useless."  
Martin sighed and looked towards the kitchen. The urge to make tea was strong, to do something that would comfort the broken man sitting in front of him. "Everything is okay, Jon. Basira, Daisy, me, you, we're all okay. Look, why don't you hop in my shower. Clean all the grub and dirt off you, and I'll make us some tea and biscuits. Yeah?"

Again, Jon smiled and all at once became aware of how filthy he was. He didn't want to intrude, but desperately wanted a shower. So he agreed, and made his way down the hall towards the bedroom.

Before, however, he walked into the bathroom at the end of the hall, he passed the door to Martin's room. Or, what he assumed to be Martin's room. The door was cracked, and he could see a bed and dresser through the small sliver the door allowed.  
He strained to hear what Martin was doing in the kitchen, and heard him whistling 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star' very out of tune. He smiled bigger this time, and slowly pushed the door open.

The first thing that caught his eye was a bright blue box sitting on the edge of what he assumed to be Martin's bed. He slowly walked over and sat on the bed, careful to not get too much dirt on the clean covers. He laid his hand on the box, and realized with a jolt that it wasn't locked.

Suddenly his head felt like it was filling with water, and he tried to push the feeling down. He didn't want to know what was in the box, he didn't want to invade Martin's privacy like that. And nothing The Eye could do was going to force him.

But Jon would have been lying to himself if he said that he didn't remember anything he was just fed. He knew that the box contained something about him, and he felt almost embarrassed for wanting to look inside even more now.

But fate wasn't going to let him off the hook that easily, as he heard footsteps coming down the hallway. "Jon, sorry about this, but I seem to have forgotten to give you a towel, and-" Martin's voice could be heard getting louder as he was coming down the hallway to the bathroom.

But his eyes connected with Jon's through the now open doorway, and the words died on his lips.

He suddenly burst into action, shuffling up the box that sat on the bed and shoving it under his dresser, cheeks flushed red and eyes wild. "You weren't... you didn't look   
in there, did you?"

Jon sat there stunned and took a moment to regain his composure before speaking again, "Martin, I'm so sorry, I didn't look in the box. I just... I saw your room and was curious as to what was in here, and-"

Martin cut him off, laughing softly at first, soon growing into full body laughter where he had to hold his stomach as if it hurt. Jon sat there dumbfounded, not knowing what was an appropriate reaction for the ridiculous situation he seemed to find himself in.

"Jon, you're so different. A few years ago, I never could have imagined you'd be sitting in my apartment, much less my bedroom, looking at a box that I thought would never been seen by anyone else. And you're sitting here, apologizing to me for, what? Being curious? That's who you are now Jon."

Jon slowly got up from the bed and walked over to Martin. He bent over and picked up the box that Martin had shoved under the dresser and held it up. He looked at Martin steadily.

"I didn't mean to Know, but I do. I know that whatever is in here contains something about me, but I'm not sure what. I would like to know, if you please"

Martin flushed ever redder, and Jon could almost feel the heat rolling off the ginger's face. He didn't know what he was doing, per say. He was relying on the feeling that rolled over him, the one that made his knees weak and his heart beat faster. He didn't feel like himself. Or... maybe he felt more like himself, more human, than he had in a long time.

Martin sighed, and grabbed the box from Jon's hands. Jon let go and stepped back, his shoulders pulled back as if to make him look taller, more intimidating. All it did to Martin, though, was make him want to grab the other man and kiss him hard on the lips. He instead decided to turn towards the bed and sit down, gently pulling the lid off the box and placing it beside him. He pulled out a piece of paper after shuffling through it a minute and held it out to Jon. It looked a couple years old, and appeared to have been torn out of a notebook. Jon grabbed it gently, but not before looking to the desk to see a tape recorder sitting on it, recording.

Jon joined Martin on the bed and began reading. It was dated about late 2016, when he had been the Archivist for only a few months. It detailed an interaction between him and Martin, but written from Martin's perspective. Obviously, he thought, he must have hated me then.

What he read, however, was the opposite. Martin wrote such... kind words about Jon. About how he was happy to see Jon everyday. As soon as he was finished with the   
first letter, Martin was there with another, and another, all about him. About Jon.

About how Martin had come to terms with his sexuality at about the same time as he came to the institute. About how he realized he had a crush on Jon, but had shrugged it off as a case of "having a 'crush' on a friend cause I'm lonely".

But soon the letters tone shifted. They felt almost like.. love letters. Confession after confession, and Jon started tearing up as him and Martin sat in the tiny bedroom for an hour. Jon trying to hide the emotions he felt, and Martin studying his reactions carefully, trying to see if he was making a mistake.

When Jon had read all the contents of the box, he finally allowed the tears to fall from his eyes. He didn't feel like he did a few hours ago. He felt new, more human than he had ever felt in his life.

"I wanted to tell you. I did. But you were always so closed off. I thought you hated me for awhile. That you only trusted me because there was no one else to trust. But I fell for you anyways. Despite all the signs telling me not to, I did. And this is all those years of.. choosing to stay with you. So, I'm sorry, I guess. You don't have to say anything. We don't have to talk about this ever again if you don't want to. I just... felt it was the right time to get this off my chest. What with the world possibly dying soon anyways."

Jon looked at Martin levelly before wiping the tears that ran down his cheeks, leaving streaks of clean skin through the dirt.

All he said was, "So that's what this feeling is."

"What feeling?" Martin replied, sounding anxious.

"I think I also feel... love. For you, Martin. I just hadn't... realized until now." Jon smiled and scooted closer to the other man, gently leaning his head on the freckled shoulder of Martin. His Martin.

"Are you alright?" Martin asked, glancing down at Jon. "You seem to have changed so much in the few hours you've been here"

"I think... it's for the better, Martin. I don't think I quite realized just how much I need you for stability in my life. I always would find myself wanting your company, trying to find some excuse to talk to you. So... I think I like you too, Martin."

"So what do you want to do about it?"

Jon felt a million things run through his head. Things to say, things to do, and he settled on one he thought would be the perfect way to portray his feelings. He looks up at Martin, grabbed his head between his calloused hands, and pressed a gentle kiss on Martin's lips.

Martin froze, unsure of what to do, before letting his body and instincts take control. He grabbed Jon's hips and gently lifted him up and over onto his lap. Jon's hands slid down Martin's neck and onto his shoulders, and all at once, his joy became known. He was smiling against Martin's mouth, and pulled back to look at his face.  
He didn't feel like himself, not really, but at that point he didn't care. He just smiled and carefully lifted himself off and onto the floor.

"I think I'll go take that shower now," He said, slowly walking towards the door. "Thank you Martin, for everything. I think after we settle down, we can have a nice long talk about everything". And just like that, he was gone around the corner. After a few seconds, Martin heard the shower head come to life and heard Jon step into the shower. He smiled to himself.

Maybe, He thought, things will be okay for a little while.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another love confession. Cliche maybe, but it's really cute haha

“What? Elias, I don’t understand. It’s not even a holiday today.” Jon spoke to Elias, trying very hard to keep up with the man’s eager stride.

“It’s nothing you need to worry about, little Archivist. Tell everyone that they can go home. Consider it a gift, if that tickles your fancy.” Elias drawled, opening the door to his office. “I promise everything here will be fine. Plus, you look a little worse for wear. Go suck a statement out of somebody or something.” At that, Elias slammed the door to his office, leaving Jon dumbfounded.

Normally, Jon would want to argue with him. He would want to fight against the decision Elias has made, but today he just… couldn’t. Elias was right, and that annoyed Jon. He was tired, and more hungry than he had been in a long time. He decided to drop the issue and just enjoy the free day that he had been given.

As Jon began walking around the institute, relaying the message Elias had told him to, he ran into Martin. Martin helped him with the few people left while Jon went into the Archives to collect his things. Not that he had much; just his journal and charger for his phone. Not that he really used it all that often anymore. The only people who texted him were Martin and Basira. But he rarely answered. Jon sighed, staring at the device when he heard a knock on the door. Gentle, but it made him smile to himself. “Come in, Martin,” He said.

The door opened, revealing the redhead Jon had come to rely on heavily these past few months. Martin smiled gently. A rush of dizziness ran through Jon’s head, causing him to lean heavily against the chair leaned against his desk. Martin quickly rushed over to support Jon, looping the smaller man’s arm around his shoulders. “Careful, Jon. You need to take care of yourself. When’s the last time you... fed?” He asked carefully, careful to not talk to loud as to spook Jon. 

Jon slowly looked up at Martin, his mouth suddenly being deprived of all moisture. He swallowed in vain before speaking, “I... um... maybe a month? It’s hard to keep track of time in the grand scheme of things, right now, to be honest.”

He slipped his arm from across Martin and stood up on his own, his shoulders rolled back and his chin high. “I’ll be okay. Ah, but since we have the rest of the day off today because Elias is... busy... we should get out of here. Don’t want to upset the boss.”

“I was actually going to come to you to talk about that. I was wondering if you wanted to come over to my place. We don’t really see each other much out of work now and I have extra tea at my house that I didn’t mean to buy, but the tea was one sale and so I bought so much more than I’ll ever need and-”

“Martin. Martin!” Jon interrupted Martin’s ramble. A smile was tugging at the edge of his mouth, but from what he couldn’t tell. He was tired, oh so tired, but still he felt compelled to accept the invitation Martin had extended to him. He normally wouldn’t let himself indulge in something he wanted to do when he knew he had things that he was supposed to be doing. But Martin’s little hopeful sent shivers down Jon’s spine he couldn’t ignore. So he did accept, gladly basking in the chance to let himself relax. 

Before he knew it, Martin was driving him to his flat. He didn’t think about how he’d get home later, about how his car was still at the institute, about how Martin had said offhandedly that he has a spare bedroom that is currently unoccupied. All he thought about was the man in the driver’s seat. He allowed himself short glaces over to him while he was distracted, staring at the busy intersections in front of them. 

Every time he looked over, Jon felt his face flush and his stomach turn over. He didn’t know why this was happening, as he usually associated those feelings with fear, but he knew that he wasn’t scared. He felt more content than he ever had in his life, sitting next to Martin. Soon, though, his thoughts shifted to how tired he really was. His eyelids began to close, sleep quickly overcoming him like a gentle wave. He didn’t think, just let the feeling take him over as he fell asleep leaning against the passenger side window.

When Jon came to, he didn’t recognize his surroundings. What he did notice, though, was a few things. First, he was in a bed. Not, he decided, his bed, but it was comfortable and soft. Second he realized the decorations that covered the walls. They were pictures, he saw, pictures of various people whom he did not know, save for one. Martin. Suddenly it clicked, he was in Martin’s flat and had no recollection of coming inside himself.

Christ, he thought, Martin must have someone carried me in here himself. The selfless bastard. 

Jon slowly got out of bed, his joints screaming against the movement. He ignored them, like he always did, and began scanning the room with his eyes. It was Martin at different points in his life, surrounded by people Jon knew he’d never met, or will ever meet. Still he was drawn to a particular face in one of the pictures. It was a ginger, more heavy-set woman holding a child that looked an awful lot like Martin as a toddler. He felt the pressure beneath his eyes but decided to ignore it. He didn’t want to peer into parts of Martin’s life he wasn’t inclined to tell. But then again, it didn’t matter anyways when he heard footsteps come up right behind him.

He knew who it was before he turned around. Martin’s voice spoke quietly and broke the silence. “That’s my mum. Or, it was my mum. Before she passed away. A while before she passed away. Sorry, it’s hard to talk about.”

Jon finally turned around and faced Martin, a wave of what he thought was nausea passing over him. He awkwardly collapsed into Martin, his bony joints pressing against Martin’s soft body. But Martin managed to catch him nonetheless and set Jon down onto the bed. “You need to rest,” was all he said. 

Jon didn’t have the energy to argue, and instead let the sweet lullaby of Martin’s voice lull him to sleep. Funny, he thought, I’ve never heard Martin sing before.

When Jon woke up for the second time, it was noticeably darker. He could see the outline of Martin in the same position he had been before he’d fallen asleep. Had he been there the whole time?

Soon Jon realized with a jolt, though, that Martin was speaking. Softly, bare audible, so Jon had to strain his ears to actually hear what he was saying. He almost seemed to be talking to somebody, but Jon couldn’t make out the outline or light of a phone.

“-and I know you’re still asleep so you’ll never hear this. Maybe that’s for the better. Maybe we’re- maybe I’m meant to be unhappy. Just look at you from the sidelines and cheer you on from the stands. You’re the hero Jon, not me. The hero isn’t supposed to fall in love with a bystander, much less a guy. He’s supposed to fall in love with the sexy damsel in distress. Someone like Melanie or Basira. But I supposed they’re not really damsels, per say. I mean Melanie literally gorged her eyes out, but she’s with Georgie now. And Basira can hold her own better than any of us. 

“Sorry, I’m rambling.” He laughed. “I don’t know why I apologized though because, well, you can’t hear me.”

Martin took a pause, staying quiet for so long that Jon was worried he wasn’t going to speak again, but suddenly he let out a deep sigh.

“I guess the moral of the story is that I love you Jon. But I’m too scared to tell you to your face, so I’m instead telling you while you sleep. It’s a coward move, I know, but I’m just scared. We’ve only just started getting closer, I don’t want to push you away so soon. I have to constantly push down the urges to hug or kiss you. I don’t think I hide it well, unfortunately. Daisy gives me these... looks, like she just knows what I’m thinking. It seems you’re the only one who doesn’t know at this point. I don’t know if I’ll ever tell you to your face. But this will have to do for now.”

Martin was silent again, and finally he moved. Jon felt the weight leave the bed, and soon the sound of a door opening and footsteps retreating down the hall. Jon sat up as quietly as he could and leaned against the wall, his face cool. When he reached up to touch it, his hands came away wet. He realized then that he’s been crying, for how long he didn’t know. 

“Holy shit, Martin,” He whispered, wiping the rest of the tears from his face.

Again he felt his stomach turn, and his face heat up. He didn’t know what it meant. He didn’t know what any of it meant, he didn’t know what to do. He just sat there, staring at his hands until he heard the footsteps returning down the hall. He did not move as he saw the silhouette of Martin appear in the doorway. The figure froze, and only moved after a few seconds to turn on the lights.

Suddenly Jon could see all of Martin, his disheveled hair and tear stained face. Had he been crying?

“Uh, h-hi Jon. Glad to see you’re awake. Are you feeling any better” Martin asked gently. Had he always been this gentle?

“Martin I-” He froze, unsure how to respond to the entire situation he’d found himself in. “Um, I’m fine. Better than fine. I, um, heard what you said. Or, some of it. The end of it.”

Martin’s soft smile dropped, and so did the mug he was holding in his hands. He slowly sank to his knees, not caring about the broken ceramic mug. His head dropped into his hands and he began shaking, slow heavy sobs being released through his hands.

Jon sprung off the bed and over to Martin, careful to not step on any of the shattered mug. He slowly grabbed Martin’s hands and peeled them away from his face. He gripped them tightly, and stood as he led Martin over to the bed. He sat the man down gently and began picking pieces of ceramic off his skin. “Stay here, I’ll be right back,” He ordered, leaving the room and returning a minute later with a wet washcloth.

Jon began to wipe Martin’s knees carefully, weary to remove as much of the shrapnel as he could. Martin was silent through all of this, just staring intently at either Jon or his knees, trying to keep the whimpers of pain to a minimum. 

When Jon was finished, he stood and threw the cloth in what he assumed to be the dirty hamper. He then sat down next to the larger man, looking impossibly small next to him. But he was stronger than he looked, he knew, and took Martin’s hand into his own. It was such a simple movement, but it caused the butterflies in his stomach to persist harder. He fought down the emotion and spoke as levelly as he could.

“Martin, I don’t understand love. That’s not to say I don’t feel it, it’s just even if I did, I don’t think I would know. Or, well, Know. But, every time I’m around you, my stomach feels uneasy and I can’t help but to want to look at you. Doesn’t that mean something?”

Martin perked up at that, smiling warily at Jon, wiping his face of the rest of the tears. “Jon, you’re so oblivious. Don’t you understand? I’ve loved you for literal years, and it’s taken you this long to sort through your feelings. Christ, I never thought we would be having this conversation.”

“But I- I want to Martin. I think I understand now. I’ve been... I’ve been reading romance novels and-”

Martin burst out laughing at that, his voice incredulous, “Romance Novels?? The Jonathan Sims has been reading romance novels? For what? How to know if you’re in love or not? That’s not how you-” The look on Jon’s face shut him up. “Oh my God, you were reading them to find out about love. Jon, I didn’t- I’m sorry-”

It was Jon’s turn to laugh. He placed his hand on top of Martin’s and leaned on him. “It’s quite alright, Martin. I just didn’t know how else to get answers to my questions, and The Eye was keen on telling me. So, yes. Romance novels.”

He felt Martin move above him, and turned at the same time Martin tried to look down at Jon. What happened instead, however, sent shivers down both their spines. Martin leaned down a little too far, and their lips brushed. Soon Jon felt Martin above him again, but this was, was pushed to the mattress with a weight on top of him. His mind turned blank, not inclined to help him out but it didn’t matter. His instincts kicked in and soon he was kissing Martin back. He was kissing him back.

It was the softest thing he had ever felt. With a jolt, though, Martin sat up and scrambled off the bed, off of Jon. He suddenly felt cold as Martin stared at Jon with wide eyes. 

“We should, um, probably head to bed. You can sleep in here, I’ll crash in the other bedroom. Goodnight, Jon, um, I’m sorry.” Martin stammered.

Groggily Jon smiled, and reached out his arms for Martin. “Please, stay with me tonight. I lost you so much already, I don’t want to lose you again.”

And so Martin did. He slept with Jon that night, relishing in the fact that Jon had asked him to stay. He couldn’t leave Jon when he was finally asking for him. Right before Martin finally fell asleep though, he heard Jon whisper in the dark.

“I love you too, Martin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: imalwaysintune
> 
> thanks for much for reading! i'm definitely newer to writing and i only made an ao3 account today so bear with me lmao

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you actually found this story and read it, if you want I have a Tumblr where I also post these stories
> 
> imalwaysintune!


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